


The Littlest Rogers

by raving_liberal



Series: Kids and Kids [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption, Babies, Communism Humor, Everybody Lives, Friendship, Goats, Happy Steve Bingo, Intentional Baby Acquisition, Long-Distance Relationship, Post-Canon, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: Steve undertakes the momentous task of adoption.





	The Littlest Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Steve Bingo Prompt: Pregnancy
> 
> Beta-reading (and title) by the_ink_stained_knight & some last-minute editing from david_of_oz!

When Gladys, Steve’s adoption attorney, showed him the list of potential birth mothers interested in meeting with him, he didn’t know how he would go about choosing. All those names, and somehow Steve had to choose the right person? He didn’t say it aloud—he knew it sounded like he was objectifying the women, and that certainly wasn’t his intent—but he felt like he had an embarrassment of riches, too many potential options. 

The feeling dissipated quickly once the meetings started. The birth mothers ranged in age from quite fairly young teenagers to early 30s, varying widely in race and ethnicity, but nearly all of them fell into one of two categories: they either loved Captain America or hated him. Steve couldn’t say which made him more uncomfortable, the women who got goo-goo eyes the minute he walked into the meeting room or the one whose eyes went stony when they realized that they realized they were meeting with one of the world’s most notorious former internationally-wanted on-again, off-again heroes. Try as Steve might to explain that Steve Rogers, _not_ Captain America, would be adopting this baby, he never walked out of the meetings feeling like he found a match. 

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Steve confessed to Natasha one night over drinks, after a particularly rough meeting with a 15-year-old birth mother and her very conservative parents. When Steve had walked into the meeting room, the girl’s father had immediately started yelling at Gladys about failing to disclose Steve’s identity. “Traitor to his country” and “an embarrassment to the stars and stripes” had been among the nicer things the man had called Steve. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t a good match. 

“Don’t give up yet,” Natasha said. She tapped the edge of her glass to let the bartender know she was ready for another vodka tonic. “I’m sure the right woman is out there somewhere.”

“You make it sound like I’m dating,” Steve said.

Natasha rolled her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “Isn’t it a little bit like that? You’re looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with, or at least the next eighteen years or so.”

“I still wish I’d been approved to foster,” Steve said. He set down his empty beer bottle. 

“It is a little strange that the state won’t let you foster a kid temporarily because of your ‘unpredictable schedule and concerning legal history’, but an adoption agency will just straight-up give you a baby,” Natasha said. She sounded slightly inebriated, but years of friendship had taught Steve that Natasha had many different interrogation techniques and ‘playing fake-drunk to get you to lower your guard’ was just one of them. 

“They’re not exactly _giving_ me a baby,” Steve said. “They’re facilitating a private adoption. The goal of foster care is supposed to be reuniting the kids with their families, so it makes sense that they wouldn’t want to put the kids in a situation that could be…”

“The center of an international scandal and subsequent manhunt?” Natasha suggested.

“I was going to say ‘potentially unstable’, but sure,” Steve said.

“If you weren’t all caught up in your eighty-year romance with Barnes, you could just get a baby the old-fashioned way,” Natasha said, with a (possibly fake) waggle of her eyebrows. 

Steve looked back her with his features composed into the most blank-faced, wide-eyed innocent expression he could muster. “What, you mean the stork?”

Natasha immediately started laughing, snorting vodka out her nose in the process. “Ow!” she said, punching Steve in the arm. “You ass! That hurts. Ow, god, it stings, it stings!” 

“Serves you right,” Steve said. 

Natasha blew her nose into a cocktail napkin, eyes watering. “Hey,” she said, in between blows. “I’d offer if I had the equipment.”

“Sure you would.”

“I’m serious!” Natasha said.

“Well, that’s not on the table, so I’m back to dealing with the adoption agency,” Steve said. 

“We could have made such a cute baby,” Natasha said – so, okay, maybe a little bit real-drunk. 

“Do you even like babies?” Steve asked. 

“I liked Clint and Laura’s babies.”

“That’s three.”

“See!” Natasha said. “Three whole babies.”

Steve caught the bartender’s eyes. “We’ll take the check now.”

“They’re a lot more fun after they learn to walk and talk, though,” Natasha confessed. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Over the following weeks, Steve had two more unsuccessful meetings with prospective birth mothers (one of whom kept asking if Steve was single and making sexually-tinged comments, while the other seemed preoccupied with Steve’s “lifetime of service to our country”), and one meeting where the woman immediately turned around and left as soon as she walked into the room and saw him. Self-doubt started creeping in, and Steve began to wonder whether this was even a good idea. Maybe the Office of Children and Family services was right. Maybe Steve couldn’t provide a safe and stable enough home for a baby. 

“I don’t know how many more of these I can do,” Steve admitted to Gladys as she sat across her desk from Steve and closed out the paperwork from the last unsuccessful meeting. Gladys _tsked_ and took her reading glasses off her face, letting them hang from their beaded chain.

“Now Steve,” she began. That was one reason why he chose Gladys over the other two lawyers he interviewed; she was the only one willing to address him by his first name after being asked once. “You knew going into this that it could be a long process. Some potential adoptive parents wait for years to find the right match, and you’ve already had a few birth mothers say that they thought you would be a good fit.”

“They didn’t mean _me_ , though,” Steve said. “They meant Captain America. They weren’t interested in knowing anything about me, what kind of home I would provide for the baby, how I would raise it. I either felt like I couldn’t trust them or that they didn’t really trust me.”

“I warned you that my higher-profile clients sometimes run into situations like that, people who are looking for money or a connection to fame, or who think they know you because they’ve read your Wikipedia page. That’s part of the risk you take when arranging a private adoption of this nature,” Gladys said. 

“So what do I do?” Steve asked. “How do I find the right person?”

“You wait. You have faith that a match will come along, and you be patient until it happens.”

Steve looked askance. “I’m not exactly known for my patience.”

“Well then,” Gladys said, smiling at him. “Now is a good time to practice, because parenting involves a great deal of patience.”

Steve tried to be patient. He really did. He went into each meeting with a potential birth mother with the best polite, positive attitude he could manage, though he also did his best not to invest too heavily in the idea of any specific baby. Over the following months, he met several lovely women who seemed neither starstruck nor put off by Captain America. A few decided right away that they weren’t prepared to enter into an adoption agreement with such a high-profile individual, no matter how well-adjusted he seemed. One young woman even initially agreed to Steve adopting her baby, then changed her mind as she neared her due date. Steve meant it when he wished her the best, but it stung, having come so close and still not have a baby to show for it.

“I could send you a goat,” Bucky said over video chat when Steve broke the news to him. “Technically, it would still be a kid.”

“You’re hilarious, Buck,” Steve said.

“I really am sorry, you know,” Bucky said. 

“I know you are.”

“You think about trying international adoption?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head. “Most countries won’t let single parents adopt, and some of the others, well…”

“You’ve got kind of a reputation, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, chuckling despite himself. “You could say that.”

“You could move here, you know,” Bucky offered. “After the attack, they’ve got kids here who could really use somebody like you in their lives. You know T’challa would pull some strings to get you certified to be a foster parent in Wakanda.”

“I know, but I don’t want to cheat my way into parenthood,” Steve said. 

“Why not? You cheated your way into the Army—”

“Hey, now. That’s not exactly what happened!”

“And into being a giant hunk of muscle—”

“That’s a totally different situation!” 

Bucky laughed. “I’m just saying, Steve. You aren’t exactly the kind of guy who always goes about things the straightforward way.” 

“I know,” Steve said with a loud sigh. “I wanted to do this the right way, though.”

“Well, if there’s one thing I know after all these years, it’s that I can’t talk you into or out of anything once you’ve made up your mind,” Bucky said. “Just keep me updated, alright? And let me know if you want a goat. Elambileyo’s due to kid any day now.”

“Is she the red one with the white spot over her eye?”

“Nah, she’s the fat one that ate all those flowers I planted.”

“I like that one,” Steve said. “She reminds me of you.”

“You saying I’m fat?” Bucky asked.

“I’m saying you look like a goat,” Steve said.

“That’s it! Offer rescinded,” Bucky said, barely holding back a laugh. “No goat of mine’s gonna be raised by a dirty, no good—”

Steve laughed. “Love you too, Buck,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you,” Bucky said. “I’m sorry I’m a global menace and would make you unfit to parent.”

“We’ll figure it out. T’challa and Ross are working on the legal end, and Natasha’s ready to go on the pro-Bucky propaganda campaign whenever we’re ready,” Steve said. 

“I just hate that you’re doing all this as a single parent,” Bucky said.

Steve shrugged. “For now, yeah, but it won’t always be like that.”

“Just get your ass over here as soon as you get a baby, okay?” Bucky said.

“I will, Buck. You know I will.”

Another few months passed before Steve got a call from Gladys about another potential birth month. Honestly, he appreciated the break in between; it gave him a chance to clear his mind and do a little soul-searching, along with fitting in a few more sessions with the counselor he’d been seeing since he first got the idea of raising a kid in his head. When Gladys finally called with the news, Steve felt much more prepared for any possible outcome.

“Her name is Kara. She’s twenty-two, a junior in the B.F.A. program at Cooper Union. Her family lives in Connecticut, and she plans to move back there for graduate school. She’s interested in an open adoption, but would prefer communication about the child be mainly through letters and pictures,” Gladys said. “She’s asking for assistance with the portion of her medical bills from the pregnancy and birth that aren’t covered by insurance, but nothing else.”

“That sounds promising,” Steve said, crossing his fingers. 

When Kara walked into the meeting room with a red tee with a cartoon of Karl Marx and the caption “Roses Are Red, So Is the State, Let Us Be Comrades, Because You Are Great” stretched across her round belly, Steve immediately let out the loudest laugh. The young woman stared at him for a few minutes before her face turned almost as red as her shirt, both hands flying to her cheeks.

“Oh no,” Kara said. “Oh my god. I knew your name was Steven Rogers, but I had no idea you were _Steve Rogers_!” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Steve said, still laughing. 

“Ohhhh god, and I’m wearing a shirt about communism in front of Captain America. Shit, I’m so embarrassed,” Kara said, then turned even redder. “I shouldn’t be cussing in front of you. Sorry. Shit.”

Steve just laughed harder, tears coming to his eyes. “No, no, it’s great, it’s so great. I love it. In fact, I have to get a picture of it for my friend Natasha.”

“Sure,” Kara said, sitting in the comfortable chair that Gladys gestured towards.

Steve finally got his laughter under control and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kara. That’s just the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Well, I’m glad I could make Captain America laugh,” Kara said.

“Nah, Captain America’s got no sense of humor,” Steve said. “Steve Rogers, on the other hand, really appreciates communism jokes, so I have to ask you to call me Steve.”

“Okay, Steve,” Kara said with a wide smile. “So… I hear you’re interested in adopting my baby. For starters, it’s a girl.”

Steve and Kara hit it off right away, and after a few more meetings, they began the paperwork for the adoption. Steve kept waiting for her to back out, but she only became more adamant about having made the right choice as she got closer to her due date. Natasha insisted on vetting Kara—she turned out to look like an even _better_ choice after Nat’s thorough background check—and then on meeting her herself. Steve was unsurprised when the two of them exchanged contact information; he suspected that Kara might end up relying on Natasha for updates about the baby after she was born. 

When the day finally came, Steve paced around the family waiting room of the birth center at New York-Presbyterian Lower Manhattan, holding up his phone so he could see Bucky over video chat while he waited. Supposedly, once the baby was born, a nurse would come get Steve so he could meet her. Part of Steve was still slightly terrified that once Kara took a look at the baby, she would change her mind and want to keep her. 

“I feel like I can’t breath,” Steve said. 

“It’s gonna be fine. Sit down, put your head between your knees. Everything’s gonna be okay,” Bucky said.

“What if she changes her mind?”

“She’s not, Steve. Come on. From everything you told me about this girl, she knows exactly what she wants.”

Steve nodded, because Kara was definitely the kind of person who knew her own mind. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“And then as soon as you’re all free and clear with the adoption paperwork, you can get that little girl her passport and bring her over here to meet me!” Bucky said. “I’ve got so many presents for her.”

“Bucky, you are not giving the baby a goat,” Steve said.

“Would I do something like that?” Bucky asked.

“You’re planning on giving her a goat, aren’t you?” 

“I _might_ be planning to give her a goat.”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t bring a goat back to New York with me.”

“Then I guess the two of you’ll just have to stay here in Wakanda for a while, then,” Bucky said.

“You know I wish you could be here with me, right?” Steve asked. “I wish you could be doing this with me.”

“And I wish I weren’t still on every no-fly and terrorist watch list on the planet, but it is what it is,” Bucky said.

“Did you come up with a name like I asked?” 

“You told me no on ‘James Junior’.”

“If it’d been a boy, maybe,” Steve said. “You’ll just have to save that one for the goats.”

“I’ve already got a Steve Junior,” Bucky said. “Seriously, though, I was thinking maybe we should name her after our moms.”

“Hmm. Winifred Sarah or Sarah Winifred?” Steve asked.

“I’m good either way,” Bucky said.

“Winnie Rogers is a cute name.”

“The cutest.”

“Winifred Sarah Rogers it is, then,” Steve said. Before he could say anything else, though, someone behind him coughed in an ‘I need your attention’ kind of way. Steve turned around to see a nurse smiling at him.

“Are you ready to meet your new daughter, Dad?” she asked.

Bucky smiled at Steve from the screen. “Better go meet your kid. Take a million pictures and send them all to me.”

“I will,” Steve said. “Love you.”

“Love you, too… _Dad_!” Bucky cackled, then ended to call.

Steve followed the nurse to a small room set up with a cushioned glider chair and a plastic bassinet. He sat in the chair and tried to make himself comfortable, but all he could really do is perch on the edge of the seat in anticipation. The door opened, and another nurse came in pushing a second plastic bassinet, this one with an angry red baby inside, bundled in a thin blanket and topped with a knit pink and white striped hat. 

“Here you go,” the first nurse said, scooping up the baby and unceremoniously plopping her into Steve’s waiting arms. 

Steve believed in romantic love at first sight. He felt it the first time he laid eyes on Bucky, then again years later when he met Peggy. He believed in fraternal love at first sight, too, a sort of instant kinship. He experienced it when he met Natasha and then Sam. What he didn’t quite expect was the rush of love he felt for the small, squalling bundle in his arms. He jostled her a little, then got the glider moving, and she quieted somewhat, enough that when the nurse handed him a bottle, he was able to get the baby to take it without much fuss.

“Hi Winnie,” Steve said to her. “I’m… well, I’m your dad. Your life is going to be really unusual, but I think you’re going to like it. You’re definitely going to meet some interesting people.”

While Winnie drank her bottle, Steve pulled out his phone and snapped several pictures of her, sending them to Bucky. He knew Bucky would do his duty and disseminate the photographs to the rest of the team. Afterward, he settled back more comfortably into the glider with his new daughter in his arms, feeling a little overwhelmed, but also completely, blissfully happy.


End file.
